


Parchment and Sandalwood

by TheIcePrince



Series: Good Omens: The Collection [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drugs, M/M, Rich Crowley, Slurs, genderfluid beelzebub, rich Aziraphale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23476129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIcePrince/pseuds/TheIcePrince
Summary: Hurt, belittled, and ashamed, Aziraphale is a theology student expecting nothing and getting a whole lot more than that.Crowley is a whole lot more. A botany student who's popularity masks his raging desire to travel off into the abyss and do research.These two opposites find a lot more in common, and it all starts with a crash. Literally.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Good Omens: The Collection [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1593880
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

“ You understand what that means, right Fell’s?”

Michael held the small hand tightly and tried hard to stay calm for him. _For both of them_. Gabriel didn’t look scared, but she knew he was good at hiding feelings, she’d caught him sniffling too many times in dark places for her to just forget.

“We understand ma’am. Is there anything else?” she questioned, only a little bit of a wobble in her voice.

The officer’s eyes were soft as she leaned down to hug the little girl. “It’s going to be okay; you’ve been so very brave” She whispered before pulling away and clearing her throat.

“We’ve called your grandmother; she should be here soon, and you’ll all be able to go home for a well-deserved rest. In the meantime, I’ll get this little one another blanket.” Her eyes were watching the little toddler with snow-white hair and pale skin, his blue eyes wide and tear tracks still visible on his face.

As she turned to leave, Tracy heard the littlest boy for the first time that day, 

“When are Mummy and Daddy coming back?”

_They aren’t sweet child._

Tracy returned with the blanket in one hand and juggled a tray of hot chocolate in the other, being careful to not spill any of it. Bending down, she gave one to each older child and kneeled to give the smallest cup to the youngest.

Smiling softly at him, she took out her radio to check on the status of the grandmother and got a response right away, “Should be another ten minutes before she gets here, the nanny is here though. Showed up in her night things and everything.”

“What are you waiting for then, send her over.” _Honestly, would they ever manage to get anything done without me around._ Tracy sighed and stood up, brushing her knees and lead the gaggle of children towards her car, letting them sit down while they waited for Raphael.

The sullen silence was broken by a flurry of red hair and a long flowing robe that rushed towards the children.

“Oh, my darlings, I’m so sorry. Is everyone okay? What happened? Aziraphale, you know better than to have chocolate so late at night! Oh Gabriel, don’t be ashamed to cry, I’ve got you. Michael, you’ve been so strong, my brave heart.” Arms went around each child, rubbing each back soothingly, faces pressed tight against her chest. Needless to say, hot chocolate was spilt, and it was last thing any of them cared about.

When Catherine Fell finally arrived, the ambulances had long departed, leaving Officer Tracy, Raphael, and the three Fell children wearily settled into the entry room of the house. Aziraphale had long ago drifted into a hazy slumber and it was promptly broken by the women slamming the door open and the following clinks of her heels.

Catherine Fell was well known for her medical background, noble family, and mostly of her ill temper. One glance at Raphael’s reckless attire made the women turn bright with shame and her slender hands adjusted her robe while she peered at her bunny slippers. Another once of attention was given to the officer. Catherine nodded and the women hastily departed, feeling unease seep into her.

The Fell children, well adjusted to the women they called “Grand-mama”, sat still and straightened their spines as much as their body would allow, faces blank and eyes emotionless.

“Ready each of them a bath Raphael and after, into bed they go. We will talk in the morning” Catherine lifted a finger towards the children “ You all stay here, go now Nanny. I will send them up when I’m done with them.” Raphael nodded, and left the room quietly, shutting the door behind her.

The old lady looked at each of the children, her eyes softening as she watched them. Her eyes filled with tears, her hurt and loss finally surfacing before she crumpled down onto the floor. Unanimously, the children surround her, small hands hugging and crying alongside their grand-mama.

They have all lost loved ones this tragic night.

Sixteen-year-old Aziraphale struggles with his pants, the button unable to fully close and the heat of embarrassment runs through his face. Giving up, he groans into his hands before tugging the pants off and choosing unfavoured sweatpants instead. He is already late.

Gabriel sits at the breakfast island while he goes through his numerous acceptance letters and sips at his protein shake. He glances up at his blond-haired brother and grimaces. “Proper pants too tight… again Azi? That’s the second time this year. You _are_ following those diet plans right?”

“Yes, I am! Every part of them. Must just be growing… that’s it, just growing.” The worst part is, Aziraphale isn’t lying, he is following the food plan, he’s just not loosing anything. He can’t decide if that’s worse than intentionally not following the food plan. _Just growing… totally normal, its just fine._

His worry is interrupted by a hand on his shoulder, “Don’t worry Aziraphale, it’ll be fine! I’m sure Gabe would work out with you sometime if you wanted.” Michael would do it herself, but her last year of law school was biting into her own self care time.

Cornered, Aziraphale could do little other than stammer out a feeble excuse before turning away from the kitchen and throwing a goodbye over his shoulder. He was going to be late and he was going to be under-dressed.

He stopped right before the café’s entrance, straightening his shirt and adjusting his backpack. Glancing in, Dominic was sitting in the corner booth, textbooks and coursework laying out, but his eyes glued to his phone. With the amount of time he spent looking at phones, Aziraphale was tempted to get one just so Dominic would look at him with those green eyes for even just a fraction longer.

_Right that won’t do, I need to calm down. Just need to walk in there and tell him. It’ll be tickety-boo._ Bracing himself, Aziraphale walked in, ignored the sweet women who said hello, and stopped at the end of the booth.

“I’m gay and I love you.” Rushed, breathless, and _oh fuck._

A moment passed, and then another.

“Hello to you too Aziraphale.” Dominic hadn’t even looked up, “ Sit down, let’s work on some math. I’m worried about the exam on Monday, I don’t even get why I have to know rational numbers. Who even gives a fuck?”

He sits down, brain hardly working enough to take his backpack off before he does, squishing him between the seat and table. “Did you hear what I said?” he whispers, not brave enough to say it louder.

Dominic hasn’t stopped talking, “… and then there’s this dumb-ass kid who sits beside me in English going on about how much he hates Shakespeare, as if I don’t notice him reading _Much Ado about Nothing_ on his phone. Honestly….”

Aziraphale’ s face flushes more, now feeling angry and talked over and unheard “ Dominic…”

“…and the new bio teacher hasn’t even handed out the syllabus yet, its nearly October. What a moron…” Dominic continues rambling, not even noticing his companions desire to speak.

_Right well that’s enough_

Aziraphale grabs his lovers chin and rushes his mouth forwards without a thought, lips touching soft lips for a moment before his thoughts catch up with his actions. He pulls away standing up and knocking textbooks off the table while the café goes silent.

Hands curled into fists; a tear runs down his face. “ I’m gay and I have a crush on you.”

Dominic is looking at Aziraphale with wide eyes, as if finally seeing him for the first time. His features transforming into anger as his eyes scan the soft shape of Aziraphale, his mouth finally rests in a snarl, “ You thought you were good enough for me, huh? So, you are as stupid as you look. Thinking I cared when all I did was use you for answers on exams. Disgusting fat queer. Get out and don’t talk to me.”

Aziraphale is outside in an instant, avoiding the mixed emotions on the café’s other patrons. He stumbles into the alley way near him, finally hunching down to sob into his arms. He collects himself after allowing a moment of weakness. Brushing at tears, he schools himself in a way he is all too used to by now.

Gabriel corners him in the mansions library, and Aziraphale finds himself threatened and torn apart once again that day. “Imagine what Mom would say, birthing a queer like you? What about Dad? Grand-mama has such high hopes for you, and this is how you’re repaying her? Kissing boy’s who don’t want to be kissed, corrupting them? Do you want to be known as the disgraced Fell boy, the one who isn’t a lawyer or going to a prestigious university?” He is ruthless, and every word tear’s open Aziraphale’ s hurting heart.

“No!” his own denial is rough against his ears, a betrayal to who he knows he is.

“God doesn’t love sinners, pray that this doesn’t make you burn in hell Aziraphale.” 

“ I will! Please Gabriel, don’t tell anyone. It wont ever happen again!” he is crying, his voice miserable and pleading. He cannot take more pain nor more rejection, for it would end him.

Gabriel’s eyes are calculating, but the pleading softens them slightly. His voice is still cold when he speaks “ You have one more chance. If it happens again, I will tell Michael, and the rest will follow.”

Aziraphale skin whitens further, and he is hastily agreeing to an agreement that will suppress him for as long as he lives.

“Anything for my family.”

“Theology! What a noble pursuit! I am so proud of you brother!” Michael’s voice comes from the tablet in Gabriel’s hand, she is beaming at Aziraphale with such fondness it almost blinds him. He flushes with the praise, and shrugs it off, “Well, its still at the university here, so I can come and spend time with Grand-mama while you two go off on your adventures.”

Michael’s face burrows with worry and Aziraphale knows he’s going to get an earful from Gabriel after the call ends. “How is she?”

“She’s doing great!” Gabriel’s voice is loud, and Aziraphale flinches a little. “We go out for walks together in the evenings.”

“She’s still not talking?” Michael inquires.

“Unfortunately, not.” Aziraphale says quietly, deeply regretting his change in subject.

The conversation ebbs and flows for a few more moments before Michael has to leave for court. She waves a cheerful reply that her bothers bid farewell too and the screen finally blinks off.

Gabriel’s hand tightens on Aziraphale wrist painfully. “Did you have to bring her up?” He snarls, “how stupid are you, ruining her mood? Right before a case too? It’ll be your fault if she loses.”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean too!” The blonde is far too used to pleading for forgiveness, even when he should not be apologizing in the first place.

The dark-haired man pulls Aziraphale closer, pushing his face close. “Don’t think I won’t know if you get up to queer things while you’re in that university. Your barely worth the money and effort to put you through the program in the first place, I won’t hesitate to pull you out of classes if I get even an inkling of your inappropriate desires.”

He pushes away the stout eighteen-year-old , “You’re pathetic and you need to lose that disgusting gut.”

Aziraphale holds himself together only long enough for Gabriel to leave the room. Then he weeps his sorrows just as he has many times before.

Gabriel gets married the summer before Aziraphale leaves for university. Mary and he had dated steadily after meeting at a business conference in New York. She was a beautiful bride that day, and the two made their vows with the sunset kissing their faces. Aziraphale was moved to tears, softly wiping at his wet eyes and sniffling. He hoped for that one day, a wedding with someone he so dearly loved. He knew that it wouldn’t happen, not unless he got very okay with pretending to love women. But a man could dream regardless.

Besides, wedding cake was almost as good.

He gets drunk on wine the first night in his dormitory. Alone, burrowed into his blankets and in the soft tartan pajamas he had gotten from Grand-mama. The words of Oscar Wilde are starting to get a little blurry and Aziraphale feels more alone than ever reading Dorian and Basil’s conversations. He puts the book away after a tear drips onto the words, sniffling a little as he drunkenly moves around his room.

He grabs the wine bottle off his nightstand and sits by the kitchen window of his lonely apartment dorm. Being rich payed off well, and Aziraphale did not fancy the company of others, so an apartment dorm was easily acquired. His drunk mind regretted the choice now, wanting to mingle and socialize as human nature was supposed too.

_Suppose I could go to the new student orientation. Maybe the magi_ \- A flash of bright red and something crashes on to the balcony. Aziraphale startles from his quiet drunk loneliness and rushes to whatever made its awful decent into the balcony of the apartment.

A bundle of dark clothing and red long hair is splayed onto the floor and it is groaning loudly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not beta'd! 
> 
> please give me comments and suggestions b/c I live on validattttion

Standing there in pajamas and blanket grasped in hand, Anthony waited for his parents to open their bedroom door. A muffled curse and the shuffling of feet moved closer while he tried hard to hide the tears running down his face, rubbing at the flushed skin.

The door pulled open and clouds of cigar smoke wafted out of the room and from the end of the cigar in his fathers mouth. The man wore a rumpled bathrobe and stank of smoke, alcohol, and something else that Anthony would not know of for many years. Running a hand through bright red hair, his eyes landed blearily on the shaking form of his son.

_Fucking brat knows better than to sob. Guess he can learn._

“What is it?” came from the bed further inside the room, the soft voice of Ishtar who Balaam hoped was still unclad underneath her blankets.

“Just the kid. Stay there, I’ll deal with it” it was not a request and they both knew that

The gruff voice then addressed Anthony, “Go back to fucking bed” matching auburn eyes assessed the others, the elder Crowley’s piercing through the child’s sad ones with anger before slamming the door shut and returning to his wife.

The small boy slumped a little further down at the sight of his father turning away, his small shoulders heavy.

_Why does Dad hate me?_

Small footsteps pattered down the steps, echoing through the large estate as Anthony made his way aimlessly through each empty room. His body eventually slowed down to a weak crawl as sleep bothered him with the thought of warm blankets and a mattress underneath him. Pulling himself up and on to one of the couches, he put his head down on the uncomfortable foam and drifted to sleep to the sound of distant sirens.

He didn’t sleep for very long, a few hours at most, before Dagon was pinching at his skin.

“Get up boy. Its time for you to go away.” Dagon hated this time of the year. She dreaded the moment when the bright curious thing left with suitcases and bleary eyes at the crack of dawn. She couldn’t do much about it, and deep down she knew this was better than her charge being at the mercy of kicks and slaps from his father.

“I’m gett’n up, stop the pinching” half-asleep, Anthony wasn’t much of a fight and got ready with little complaints. He was used to this. Used to waking up in a cold shower, dressing, and being herded onto a full train by dawn. He looked forwards to this day, eager to leave the deathly quiet of an empty home and become Crawley, the feared but fair bully.

The first time it happened, Anthony was home for Easter. Dagon had pushed him along to the tailors after noticing the way his bony ankles and wrists suck out of his suit. Entering the familiar shop of Shadwell’s wasn’t anything new, but the mannequin wearing a deliciously cut women’s dress was.

Anthony yearned to wear something that clinging, that smooth and sparkly on his own body. His eyes taking in the long dress and feeling shame curse through himself. _That’s wrong, I can’t. I wont._

“That’s rather pretty isn’t it Anthony?” He startled at the smooth tone coming from Dagon, unease turning into fear.

“Ngk... I sup’ose its somthin.” _Be casual, this is normal. I’m normal._

Dagon looked at the young adult, peering into his eyes as understanding filled her. A jagged smile was given to him and she turned to address the tailor.

“We will take this piece as well, Mr. Shadwell. Pack it up nicely, I won’t have a damaged piece.”

Measurements were taken and everything was to be delivered prior to the company’s large dinner party. Including the dress. Shadwell hadn’t even blinked an eye at Dagon’s instructions, just turned a bright red when she told him to adjust it to Anthony’s measurements. 

“Do you want to be called anything else?” Dagon asked after moments of silent driving, her voice still softer than anything Anthony had ever heard from her before.

“Crawley’s fine.” His face was brighter than he wished it was, ruining the cool and collected look he has maintained from the moment Dagon had commented about the dress.

Looking out form the corner of her eye, she saw the tense teen beside her, “It’s fine you know, to not want to follow rules. I won’t tell either.”

He relaxed at that and muttered a breathless “Thanks. You’re nice.”

Dagon returned her focus to the road, “I’m not nice. Secrets not mine to tell anyways.”

“Hide the dress well.”

Crawley took Dagon’s advice to heart, hiding the shiny fabric into the farthest side of his closet, surrounded by various other pitch-black pieces of clothing. It would only be taken out and admired at the early hours of the morning, when both Ishtar and Balaam would be dead to the world from their drug induced haze.

He’s seventeen and very drunk, tipping the chair back while his feet rest on the table. “They fucked to death!” He’s gleeful and happy, the happiest he’s been since birth he guesses.

Bouncing up from his chair he grabs Be’s hand and drags them into a waltz, much to their disappointment and to the glee of the two others. “They’re finally dead Belz! And I’m rich!” He spins her once, and then twice before relenting to their attempts to push away.

“What’cha gonna do first?” They ask, hands on their hips.

“Buy out Eden!” offers a slumped over Harry

“Put an actually decent CEO in place” advises Lee.

“No and uhm no.” Crawley slurs, stumbling a little.

 _First things first_ “Call me Crowley.” He grins madly and contorts into the throne placed in the family room.

“ ‘m getting a Bentley”

He thrusts in and out of her, fucking her from the back. Listening to her moans of pleasure. Feeling success rush through himself as her walls tighten around him and her orgasm builds and peaks with the rushed fucking. He buries his fingers into her dark hair, arching her back while he fucks through her orgasm and arrives at his own with a guttural moan.

He moves away from her thighs, grabbing at a towel for a quick cleanup.

“that was… wow” she’s breathing fast and her words are breathless as she regains her composure.

Crowley doesn’t remember her name. He doesn’t care either.

“The rooms payed for. Enjoy the night, order room service or whatever.” He ties up his long hair, the strands tangled from the women’s hands prior. He leans down to pull on black clothing and his sunglasses are plucked from the dresser as he exits. He doesn’t wait for a reply.

“You didn’t tell me.” He’s not upset, hardly something to be upset about.

“Sir you were abroad on the Dowling project, the other’s said you would weren’t to be disturbed” Lilith wasn’t one to go around in circles trying to explain things. She was calculated and business focused, which is why Crowley had hired her in the first place.

One brow arch’s as he looks at the dying plant in front of him. Lilith swears she see’s a leaf tremble. _He’s only eighteen, what damage can a boy his age even do? Besides, its just a fucking plant._

Crowley stumbles out of his chair, long fingers grabbing the offending plant. Pulling open the door leading to the balcony, Lilith watches him lean over the edge, watches him mutter something as if talking to the plant. Her mouth gapes open when Crowley drops the pot over the edge and onto the ground 50 stories below.

“Well, that’s done with. What’s next?”

He saunters towards his car, the heels clinking on the cement and hips swaying seductively. Unlocking it, Crowley lets out a woeful groan, rubbing his fingertips into his temples. He regrets agreeing to the partnership between _Lux_ and _Leviathan,_ hating his late fathers business choices. _Lux_ was being bitchy about the shares, wanting to take over 51%. Crowley would rather die than have those fuckers have any power over him. He’d put off the paperwork for now, saying he’d have to discuss it with his lawyers.

 _My replacement can have fun with that. I don’t care anymore._

More than anything else, Crowley wants to indulge in a fine wine and a hot soak in his bathtub. Take care of the plants he calls monsters, and then sleep for a century. He is more stressed than any eighteen-year-old should be, and he knows he shouldn’t be in charge of a company whose establishments he can’t even legally enter yet. He should be in university, getting drunk in lectures, failing a final or two. Fucking the cute people in his class, not fucking the interns.

“You know you should get that replacement soon.”

“Good morning to you too Dagon” he grabs an apple and is almost to the door before she catches up to him.

“Do the paperwork, I’ve sent your application to university already.” She looks at him, proud of her choices, but noticing the boy’s frown lines and the tightness of his mouth.

“What’cha do that for? I ain’t an academic.”

“It’s botany, you’ll do fine. Don’t pretend I don’t hear you halfway across the house with the amount of yelling you do.” She pushes him a little too hard out the door, “Get the bloody paperwork done! You start in September.”

“You said you sent it! Not that I got in!” he shouts, still moving towards the Bentley regardless of his swirling thoughts.

“Do the paperwork.” Dagon slams the door shut.

It takes several weeks to get everything sorted. Paperwork is signed, Lilith is left with instructions, Dagon is assigned to take care of the plants, and surprising everyone, Belz, Le, and Harry find themselves with scholarships. He tells the accountants that the money went to drugs, but his team knows him well enough to not press further. Besides, Dagon had already told them to begin accounts for the three misfits after she had spotted the quartet planning make-believe capers during numerous playdates.

It feels odd to Crowley that he’s packing away things again, after years of forced boarding school. This time he’s doing of his own choice, wanting to spend time away from the miserable quiet of the estate, choosing the miserable walls of an assigned apartment. At least this time he could get drunk without sneaking out and he had the benefit of staying with Belz, who was the cleanest out of the quartet and would keep an eye out for him.

“I can’t believe we showed up too late to collect keys.”

The four of them are leaning against the wall, standing adjacent to their locked dorms.

“Well, Crowley had to spend hours adjusting his hair, the flash-bastard.” Harry punches the man in question, and Crowley winces a little. Harry was always a little too rough.

“Yeah? Well, you’re the one who lost Asmodeus and made us find the smelly frog before we could leave!” he retorts, he hated that thing more than anything.

“SHUT UP” roars Belz, and the two stop bickering instantly. Belz was not someone they wanted to anger, not today. They had not been pleased this morning, the group had noticed right away when they had shown up to Crowley’s irritated and embellished with hickies.

They marched past the three lined up, hands grabbing at a bobby pin. Going down to their knees, they made quick work of the lock, pushing it open after a _click_. They turn around after, smiling with pearl white teeth.

“Bow down to your master!”

The three do exactly that, grinning widely in amusement and glad that Belz was feeling a little better. A moment later, they all march in together, rolling their suitcases behind them.

Lee unzips his, pulling out a bottle of cheap vodka for each person. The bottles clank together as they toast to new beginnings. Music is turned up all the way, and they all chatter loudly about everything and anything.

Crowley is completely gone by the time he feels his skin ich with tightness, stumbling he arrives into the cool air on the balcony. Leaning over, he spends a moment breathing in the air and sounds of the campus. _I can’t believe I’m finally here._

One of his hands pulls out a folded picture from the pocket of his jeans. It is well creased and fading at the fold lines. His mothers face looks out at him and he swings up to sit on the edge of the railing.

“Fuck you bitch.”

He takes a swig from his bottle and falls over the edge of the railing. 


End file.
